Clan of the Cave Bear (42 page)

“It’s only a guess that she’s the one who has been killing the animals,” Brun said. “We need to question her, but she did kill the hyena and she had a sling. She had to practice on something, there’s no other way she could have gained such skill. She’s better than Zoug with that weapon, Mog-ur, and she’s female! How did she ever learn? I’ve wondered before if there isn’t some male in her, and I’m not the only one. She’s as tall as a man and not even a woman yet. Do you think there’s any truth in the idea that she may never become one?”

“Ayla’s a girl, Brun, and someday she’ll become a woman, just like any other girl—or she would have. She’s a female
who used a weapon.” The magician’s jaw was set; he would not allow himself to grasp at false illusions.

“Well, I still want to know how long she’s been hunting. But it can wait until morning. We’re all tired now; it was a long journey. Tell Ayla we’ll question her tomorrow.”

Creb limped back to the cave, but stopped at his hearth only long enough to signal Iza to tell the girl she would be questioned in the morning, before continuing on to his small annex. He did not return to his hearth all night.

The women stared silently after the men who were walking into the woods with Ayla trailing behind. They were at a loss, filled with mixed emotions. Ayla was confused herself. She had always known it was wrong to hunt, if not how serious the crime was. I wonder if it would have made any difference if I had known? she asked herself. No. I wanted to hunt. I would have hunted anyway. But I don’t want the evil ones to chase me all the way to the spirit world. She shuddered at the thought.

The girl feared the invisible, malign entities as much as she believed in the power of protective totems. Not even the Spirit of the Cave Lion could protect her from them, could he? I must have been wrong, she thought. My totem wouldn’t have given me a sign to let me hunt knowing I’d die for it. He probably left me the first time I picked up a sling. She didn’t like thinking about it.

The men came to a clearing and arranged themselves on logs and boulders on either side of Brun, while Ayla slumped to the ground at his feet. Brun tapped her shoulder to allow her to look up at him and began without preliminaries.

“Were you the one who killed the meat eaters the hunters kept finding, Ayla?”

“Yes,” she nodded. There was no point in trying to hide anything now. Her secret was out and they would have known if she tried to evade their questions. She could no more lie than any other member of the clan could.

“How did you learn to use a sling?”

“I learned from Zoug,” she replied.

“Zoug!” Brun echoed. All heads turned accusingly toward the old man.

“I never taught the girl to use a sling,” he gestured defensively.

“Zoug didn’t know I was learning from him.” Ayla motioned
quickly, springing to the old sling-hunter’s defense. “I watched him when he was teaching Vorn.”

“How long have you been hunting?” Brun asked next.

“Two summers, now. And the summer before that I just practiced, but I didn’t hunt.”

“That’s as long as Vorn has been training,” Zoug commented.

“I know,” Ayla said. “I started the same day he did.”

“How do you know exactly when Vorn started, Ayla?” Brun asked, curious how she could be so sure.

“I was there, I watched him.”

“What do you mean, you were there? Where?”

“At the practice field. Iza sent me to get some wild cherry bark, but when I got there, you were all there,” she explained. “Iza needed the cherry bark, and I didn’t know how long you were going to stay, so I waited and watched. Zoug was giving Vorn his first lesson.”

“You watched Zoug give Vorn his first lesson?” Broud cut in. “Are you sure it was his first?” Broud remembered that day only too well. It still brought a blush of shame to his face.

“Yes, Broud. I’m sure,” she replied.

“What else did you see?” Broud’s eyes were narrowed and his gesture clipped. Brun, too, suddenly remembered what had happened in the practice field the day Zoug began Vorn’s training, and he wasn’t happy at the thought of a female witnessing the incident.

Ayla hesitated. “I saw the other men practicing, too,” she answered, trying to evade the issue, then she saw Brun’s eyes become stern. “And I saw Broud push Zoug down, and you got very mad at him, Brun.”

“You saw that! You saw the whole thing?” Broud demanded. He was livid with anger and embarrassment. Of all people, of all the people in the clan, why was she the one who had to see it? The more he thought about it, the more mortified he became, and the more furious. She was witness to Brun’s harshest denunciation of him. Broud even remembered how badly he missed his shots and suddenly recalled that he had missed the hyena, too. The hyena she killed. A female,
that
female, had shown him up.

Every kind thought, every bit of gratitude he had so recently felt toward her vanished. I’ll be so glad when she’s dead, he thought. She deserves it. He couldn’t bear the idea
of her continuing to live with her knowledge of his supreme moment of shame.

Brun watched the son of his mate and could almost read his thoughts from the expressions on his face. Too bad, he thought, just when there was some chance of ending the animosity between them, not that it matters anymore. He continued the questioning.

“You said you began to practice the same day as Vorn, tell me about it.”

“After you left, I walked across the field and saw the sling Broud threw on the ground. Everyone forgot about it after you got mad at Broud. I don’t know why, but I just wondered if I could do it. I remembered Zoug’s lesson and tried. It wasn’t easy, but I kept trying all afternoon. I forgot how late it was getting. I hit the post once, I think it was just an accident, but it made me think I could do it again if I worked at it, so I kept the sling.”

“I suppose you learned how to make one from Zoug, too.”

“Yes.”

“And you practiced that summer?”

“Yes.”

“Then you decided to hunt with it, but why did you hunt meat eaters? They’re more difficult, more dangerous, too. We’ve found dead wolves, even dead lynxes. Zoug always said they could be killed with a sling, you proved he was right, but why those?”

“I knew I could never bring anything back for the clan, I knew I wasn’t supposed to touch a weapon, but I wanted to hunt, I wanted to try, anyway. Meat eaters are always stealing food from us; I thought if I killed them, I would be helping. And it wouldn’t be such a waste, we don’t eat them. So I decided to hunt them.”

It satisfied Brun’s curiosity about why she chose predators, but not why she wanted to hunt in the first place. She was female; no woman ever wanted to hunt.

“You know it was dangerous to try for the hyena from so far away; you might have hit Brac instead.” Brun was probing. He had been ready to try his bola, though the chance of killing the boy with one of the large stones was more than a possibility. But instant death from a cracked skull was preferable to the one the child faced, and at least they would have had the boy’s body to bury, so he could be sent on his way to the spirit world with proper rituals. They
would have been lucky to find scattered bones if the hyena had had his way.

“I knew I could hit it,” Ayla answered simply.

“How could you be sure? The hyena was out of range.”

“He wasn’t out of my range. I’ve hit animals before from that distance. I don’t miss often.”

“I thought I saw the marks of two stones,” Brun motioned.

“I threw two stones,” Ayla confirmed. “I taught myself after the lynx attacked me.”

“You were attacked by a lynx?” Brun pressed.

“Yes,” Ayla nodded, and told of her close call with the large cat.

“What is your range?” Brun asked. “No, don’t tell me, show me. Do you have your sling?”

Ayla nodded and got up. They all moved to the far end of the clearing where a small brook trickled over a rocky bed. She selected a few pebbles of the right size and shape. Round ones were best for accuracy and distance, but jagged, sharp-edged broken pieces would work.

“The small white rock beside the large boulder at the other end,” she motioned.

Brun nodded. It was easily half again as far as any of them could hurl a stone. She sighted carefully, inserted a stone in her sling, and had a second one in the sling and on its way the next instant. Zoug jogged over to confirm her accuracy.

“There are two fresh chips knocked out of the white stone. She hit the mark both times,” he announced on his return, with a trace of wonder and the barest hint of pride.

She was female, she should never have touched the sling—Clan tradition was absolutely clear on that—but she was good. She gave him credit for teaching her, whether he knew it or not. That double-stone technique, he thought, that’s a trick I’d like to learn. Zoug’s pride was the pride of a true teacher for a pupil who excelled; a student who paid attention, learned well, and then did the master one better. And she had proved him right.

Brun’s eye caught a movement in the clearing.

“Ayla!” he cried. “That rabbit. Get him!”

She glanced in the direction he was pointing, saw the small animal bounding across the field, and dropped him. There was no need to check her accuracy. Brun looked at the girl appreciatively. She’s quick, he thought. The idea of
a woman hunting offended the leader’s sense of propriety, but with Brun, the clan always came first; their safety, their security, their prosperity were foremost. In a corner of his mind, he knew what an asset she could be to the clan. No, it’s impossible, he said to himself. It’s against the traditions, it’s not the Clan way.

Creb didn’t have the same appreciation for her skill. If he had any doubts left, her exhibition convinced him. Ayla had been hunting.

“Why did you ever pick up a sling in the first place?” Mog-ur gestured with a bleak, dark look.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head and looked down. More than anything, she hated the thought of the magician’s displeasure.

“You did more than touch it. You hunted with it, killed with it, when you knew it was wrong.”

“My totem gave me a sign, Creb. At least I thought it was a sign.” She was undoing the knots in her amulet. “After I decided to hunt, I found this.” She handed the fossil cast to Mog-ur.

A sign? Her totem gave her a sign? There was consternation among the men. Ayla’s revelation put a new twist on the situation, but why did she decide to hunt?

The magician examined it closely. It was a very unusual stone, shaped like a sea animal, but definitely a stone. It could have been a sign, but that didn’t prove anything. Signs were between a person and his totem; no one could understand another person’s signs. Mog-ur gave it back to the girl.

“Creb,” she said pleadingly. “I thought my totem was testing me. I thought the way Broud treated me was the test. I thought if I could learn to accept it, my totem would let me hunt.” Quizzical glances were cast in the young man’s direction to see his reaction. Did she really think Broud was used by her totem to test her? Broud looked uncomfortable. “I thought when the lynx attacked me, it was a test, too. I almost stopped hunting after that, I was too afraid. Then I got the idea to try two stones, so I would have something to try again if I missed the first time. I even thought my totem gave me the idea.”

“I see,” the holy man said. “I’d like some time to meditate on this, Brun.”

“Maybe we should all think about it. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning,” he announced, “without the girl.”

“What is there to think about?” Broud objected. “We all know the punishment she deserves.”

“Her punishment could be dangerous to the whole clan, Broud. I need to be absolutely sure there isn’t something we’ve overlooked before I condemn her. We will meet again tomorrow.”

As the men returned to the cave, they talked among themselves.

“I never knew of a woman who wanted to hunt,” Droog said. “Could it have something to do with her totem? It’s a male totem.”

“I didn’t want to question Mog-ur’s judgment at the time,” Zoug said, “but I always did wonder about her Cave Lion, even with the marks on her leg. I don’t doubt it anymore. He was right, he always is.”

“Could she be part male?” Crug commented. “There’s been some talk.”

“That would account for her unwomanly ways,” Dorv added.

“She’s female all right, there’s no doubt of that,” Broud said. “She must be killed, everyone knows it.”

“You’re probably right, Broud,” Crug said.

“Even if she is part male, I don’t like the idea of a woman hunting,” Dorv commented dourly. “I don’t even like her being part of the clan. She’s too different.”

“You know I’ve always felt that way, Dorv,” Broud agreed. “I don’t know why Brun wants to talk about it again. If I were leader, I’d just do it and be done with it.”

“It’s not a decision to make lightly, Broud,” Grod said. “What’s your hurry? One more day won’t matter.”

Broud hurried ahead without bothering to respond. That old man is always lecturing, he thought, always sticking up for Brun. Why can’t Brun make a decision? I’ve made up my mind. What good is all this talk? Maybe he’s getting old, too old to lead anymore.

Ayla stumbled back after the men. She went straight to the cave to Creb’s hearth and sat on her sleeping fur, staring into space. Iza tried to coax her to eat, but she just shook her head. Uba wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was troubling the tall, wonderful girl, the special friend she loved and idolized. She went to Ayla and crawled into her lap. Ayla held the small girl, silently rocking her. Somehow Uba knew she was a comfort. She didn’t squirm
to get down, she just allowed herself to be held and rocked and finally fell asleep. Iza took the child from Ayla’s arms and put her to bed, then retired to her own, but she didn’t sleep. Her heart was too full of grief for the strange girl she called daughter who sat staring at the glowing coals of the cooling fire.

The morning dawned clear and cold. Ice was forming on the edges of the stream, and a thin film of solidified water covered the still, spring-fed pond near the mouth of the cave in the mornings, usually melted by the time the sun was high. Before very much longer, the clan would be confined to the cave for the winter.